Daring Time

Despite her cavalier attitude Hope suspected Gail liked Ramiro very much. She agreed, also feeling the flatness of the affair now that Ryan was no longer here.

"If you could point me to the ladies' lounge first, we can be on our way," she told Gail.

Hope had to restrain herself from pausing at every exhibit she encountered as she made her way through the main floor of the museum. She briefly wondered if she'd misunderstood Gail's directions when she saw how dark the staircase was that led into the basement. But she saw bright light at the other end so she ventured on, relieved to see the sign for the ladies' lounge to the right when she reached the bottom. She passed machines that looked like they held children's toys and an exhibit called McDonald's that had an iron barricade blocking it while the museum was officially closed. The corridor where she walked appeared to stretch the entire length of the enormous facility.

The silence was broken by two young women talking animatedly as they exited the ladies' lounge. Hope heard their laughter echo in the high-ceiling, marble-tiled corridor as. she entered the largest lounge she'd ever seen in her life. Instead of individual water closets there were perhaps fifty or more narrow stalls. Hope pushed on one of the doors and peered in curiously.

She finally shrugged and entered. Obviously the Field Museum needed to be prepared for gigantic crowds, although apparently she was the lounge's sole occupant at present.

Once she'd used the toilet and determined that the Field Museum toilet paper was noticeably less soft than either Ryan's or Eve's, Hope made her way to the sinks and mirrors in the lounge.

After washing her hands she glanced into the mirror. She inhaled sharply when she saw a man with a dark complexion and black hair next to her own visage. He gave a grin that hardly connoted amusement to Hope's bewildered awareness.

"Good evening. My name's Manuel Gutierrez."

Hope's anxiety escalated a hundredfold when he raised his hand next to her head and something metallic slithered between his fingertips. She stared in amazement at her silver locket. She'd last seen it in the year 1906 ... in the hand of Diamond Jack Fletcher.

"Jim Donahue asked me to show you this for some reason, miss. Do you know him?" the man asked in a hoarse, accented voice.

"No," Hope replied as she began to edge away from the sink and the man. But he reached up and grabbed both of her shoulders in a strong grip. Hope lunged but he pulled her back in front of him with a hard jerk. Despite her growing fear, his cold eyes held her gaze in the mirror.

"Well, he seems to know you. And he specifically asked me to bring you to him so the two of you could discuss your acquaintance."

Hope twisted wildly in order to escape, but Gutierrez cocked his fist and struck her temple.

Her knees sagged. The room dipped and swayed. She started to scream but Gutierrez covered her mouth.

"Let's be on our way, sweetheart. I know a back entrance, which is a good thing, because I think you've had a little too much to drink," Hope heard him say sarcastically.

She stumbled precariously alongside him as he held her against his side and forced her out of the lounge. He pulled and dragged her down the empty hall, cursing in Spanish when Hope used her legs to resist him and then staggered frantically to regain her balance when he jerked her hard.

Abruptly Gutierrez shoved her down a darkened side corridor. She slipped on the marble tiles as she attempted to twist away from him. Damn these high heels Ryan's mother had given her to wear.

Ryan. He was going to be so irritated with her.

But she had no more opportunity to worry about Ryan at the moment because Gutierrez pushed her front side into the wall. Hope opened her mouth to scream but then felt the unmistakable hard barrel of a gun push against her spine.

"Keep your mouth shut or I'll shoot you. I don't care if Dona-hue wants to nail your ass or marry you. There's nothing I hate more than a screaming, whining woman, do you understand?" He sounded so hard and hateful that she had no problem comprehending him whatsoever. She nodded, wincing when he ground the pistol further into flesh. "I'm glad we got all that settled. Now . .. you're going to walk on your own two feet out that door at the end of this hallway."

When he released her Hope slowly stepped back from the wall, her legs trembling like they were made of rubber. A hand at the back of her neck gave her a hard nudge toward the door in the distance.

TWENTY-SIX

Ryan heard a tapping noise and flipped back the lock on the van door. Ramiro clambered in wearing his dark blue Chicago Police Department tactical coat in place of his tuxedo jacket. The two agents wearing headsets and sitting amongst all the surveillance equipment looked up.

"Menendez, Alvarez and Myerson," Ryan said perfunctorily.

Alvarez and Myerson nodded once before they went back to focusing on their work.

They were parked in the driveway of a darkened house that had access both to the alley behind the Sweet Lash and the street on the next block.

"What's happening?" Ramiro hissed softly as he slid the van door shut.

Ryan took off his headset. No covert surveillance devices needed here. "You can only make out every tenth word they're saying the damn music is so loud. I think Chirnovsky is holding up his end of the bargain, but I don't think it'll do us any good with the shit the Sweet Lash is blaring out of the speakers."

"Fuck."

Ramiro's assessment was concise, for once, and Ryan wholeheartedly agreed with it.